Joseph Andrews, by Henry Fielding

Chapter 3

Of Mr Abraham Adams the curate, Mrs Slipslop the chambermaid, and others.

Mr Abraham Adams was an excellent scholar. He was a perfect master of the Greek and Latin languages;
to which he added a great share of knowledge in the Oriental tongues; and could read and translate French, Italian, and
Spanish. He had applied many years to the most severe study, and had treasured up a fund of learning rarely to be met
with in a university. He was, besides, a man of good sense, good parts, and good nature; but was at the same time as
entirely ignorant of the ways of this world as an infant just entered into it could possibly be. As he had never any
intention to deceive, so he never suspected such a design in others. He was generous, friendly, and brave to an excess;
but simplicity was his characteristick: he did, no more than Mr Colley Cibber, apprehend any such passions as malice
and envy to exist in mankind; which was indeed less remarkable in a country parson than in a gentleman who hath passed
his life behind the scenes, — a place which hath been seldom thought the school of innocence, and where a very little
observation would have convinced the great apologist that those passions have a real existence in the human mind.

His virtue, and his other qualifications, as they rendered him equal to his office, so they made him an agreeable
and valuable companion, and had so much endeared and well recommended him to a bishop, that at the age of fifty he was
provided with a handsome income of twenty-three pounds a year; which, however, he could not make any great figure with,
because he lived in a dear country, and was a little encumbered with a wife and six children.

It was this gentleman, who having, as I have said, observed the singular devotion of young Andrews, had found means
to question him concerning several particulars; as, how many books there were in the New Testament? which were they?
how many chapters they contained? and such like: to all which, Mr Adams privately said, he answered much better than
Sir Thomas, or two other neighbouring justices of the peace could probably have done.

Mr Adams was wonderfully solicitous to know at what time, and by what opportunity, the youth became acquainted with
these matters: Joey told him that he had very early learnt to read and write by the goodness of his father, who, though
he had not interest enough to get him into a charity school, because a cousin of his father’s landlord did not vote on
the right side for a churchwarden in a borough town, yet had been himself at the expense of sixpence a week for his
learning. He told him likewise, that ever since he was in Sir Thomas’s family he had employed all his hours of leisure
in reading good books; that he had read the Bible, the Whole Duty of Man, and Thomas a Kempis; and that as often as he
could, without being perceived, he had studied a great good book which lay open in the hall window, where he had read,
“as how the devil carried away half a church in sermon-time, without hurting one of the congregation; and as how a
field of corn ran away down a hill with all the trees upon it, and covered another man’s meadow.” This sufficiently
assured Mr Adams that the good book meant could be no other than Baker’s Chronicle.

The curate, surprized to find such instances of industry and application in a young man who had never met with the
least encouragement, asked him, If he did not extremely regret the want of a liberal education, and the not having been
born of parents who might have indulged his talents and desire of knowledge? To which he answered, “He hoped he had
profited somewhat better from the books he had read than to lament his condition in this world. That, for his part, he
was perfectly content with the state to which he was called; that he should endeavour to improve his talent, which was
all required of him; but not repine at his own lot, nor envy those of his betters.” “Well said, my lad,” replied the
curate; “and I wish some who have read many more good books, nay, and some who have written good books themselves, had
profited so much by them.”

Adams had no nearer access to Sir Thomas or my lady than through the waiting-gentlewoman; for Sir Thomas was too apt
to estimate men merely by their dress or fortune; and my lady was a woman of gaiety, who had been blest with a town
education, and never spoke of any of her country neighbours by any other appellation than that of the brutes. They both
regarded the curate as a kind of domestic only, belonging to the parson of the parish, who was at this time at variance
with the knight; for the parson had for many years lived in a constant state of civil war, or, which is perhaps as bad,
of civil law, with Sir Thomas himself and the tenants of his manor. The foundation of this quarrel was a modus, by
setting which aside an advantage of several shillings per annum would have accrued to the rector; but he had
not yet been able to accomplish his purpose, and had reaped hitherto nothing better from the suits than the pleasure
(which he used indeed frequently to say was no small one) of reflecting that he had utterly undone many of the poor
tenants, though he had at the same time greatly impoverished himself.

Mrs Slipslop, the waiting-gentlewoman, being herself the daughter of a curate, preserved some respect for Adams: she
professed great regard for his learning, and would frequently dispute with him on points of theology; but always
insisted on a deference to be paid to her understanding, as she had been frequently at London, and knew more of the
world than a country parson could pretend to.

She had in these disputes a particular advantage over Adams: for she was a mighty affecter of hard words, which she
used in such a manner that the parson, who durst not offend her by calling her words in question, was frequently at
some loss to guess her meaning, and would have been much less puzzled by an Arabian manuscript.

Adams therefore took an opportunity one day, after a pretty long discourse with her on the essence (or, as she
pleased to term it, the incence) of matter, to mention the case of young Andrews; desiring her to recommend him to her
lady as a youth very susceptible of learning, and one whose instruction in Latin he would himself undertake; by which
means he might be qualified for a higher station than that of a footman; and added, she knew it was in his master’s
power easily to provide for him in a better manner. He therefore desired that the boy might be left behind under his
care.

“La! Mr Adams,” said Mrs Slipslop, “do you think my lady will suffer any preambles about any such matter? She is
going to London very concisely, and I am confidous would not leave Joey behind her on any account; for he is one of the
genteelest young fellows you may see in a summer’s day; and I am confidous she would as soon think of parting with a
pair of her grey mares, for she values herself as much on one as the other.” Adams would have interrupted, but she
proceeded: “And why is Latin more necessitous for a footman than a gentleman? It is very proper that you clergymen must
learn it, because you can’t preach without it: but I have heard gentlemen say in London, that it is fit for nobody
else. I am confidous my lady would be angry with me for mentioning it; and I shall draw myself into no such delemy.” At
which words her lady’s bell rung, and Mr Adams was forced to retire; nor could he gain a second opportunity with her
before their London journey, which happened a few days afterwards. However, Andrews behaved very thankfully and
gratefully to him for his intended kindness, which he told him he never would forget, and at the same time received
from the good man many admonitions concerning the regulation of his future conduct, and his perseverance in innocence
and industry.